


When In Spain

by hiddenheadspace



Series: the author is traveling in italy and is writing fic based on it because ve is weird [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-11
Updated: 2014-02-11
Packaged: 2018-01-11 23:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1179384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenheadspace/pseuds/hiddenheadspace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam, </p><p>I hope to all fuck you still use this email. Look. Dad is. Dad got into a car accident and was killed. The funeral and memorial are going to be soon, and if you aren’t going to be there, I need to know. </p><p>Dean</p>
            </blockquote>





	When In Spain

**Author's Note:**

> this is rambly and weird i'm so sorry
> 
> i might expand this verse later to talk about s&l and their travels when luci kidnapped him from college in the middle of a ~whirlwind romance~

_Sam,_

_I hope to all fuck you still use this email. Look. Dad is. Dad got into a car accident and was killed. The funeral and memorial are going to be soon, and if you aren’t going to be there, I need to know._

_Dean_

* * *

_Dean,_

_I’ll be in Lawrence in two days. Is it okay if I bring my husband?_

_Sam_

* * *

The silence was stifling. Dean keeps shooting Lucifer _what the fuck_ looks and carefully not mentioning the way Sam had disappeared off the face of the earth for five years.

Lucifer stirs milk into his coffee and glances at Sam. _Okay?_ his eyes ask. Sam tries to send him a reassuring smile, but is pretty sure he failed badly.

Dad is dead.

Sam didn’t know how he felt about that. They hadn’t talked in years, even longer than he and Dean had. Time had mellowed his eighteen-year-old righteous fury into a tired sort of regret that they hadn’t been able to get along.

He reaches silently for Lucifer’s hand, who instantly entwines their fingers as if he’d like very much to glue them together so that nothing could ever separate them.

Dean looks uncomfortable, which is odd, as he’d never been the slightest bit queerphobic in the past. He looks so much older, lines working their way into the skin between his eyebrows. Now that Dad’s…gone, he’ll be all alone in the old, aching house.

“How’d you two meet?” he asked abruptly.

“School,” Sam says instantly, mostly honestly. Dean was going to be unhappy if he learned more details.

His brother raises an eyebrow and says, “When’d you get married?”

“Well, we’re not exactly,” Sam says.

“Not legal here, of course,” Lucifer says, speaking for the first time since the introductions when he’d offered condolences about Dad. “We were in Spain.”

Dean’s other eyebrow climbs its way up as well. “Spain?”

Sensing an uncomfortable topic, Lucifer falls silent.

“We travel a lot,” Sam says. “We were in Rome when I got your email—Dean, I—” 

He tries to reach for the conversation hanging dark and heavy over their heads, but Dean pushes up from the table.

“You guys are welcome to stay here,” he says, because Dean’s nothing if he doesn't have forced politeness.

“It’s fine, we have a hotel,” Sam says.

They leave quickly. When they get back to their room, Sam finds that he’s started to cry somewhere between the elevator and the bed. 

Lucifer lets him hold on to him and murmurs quietly to him until Sam can breathe more easily. 


End file.
